


Love Across the Ages

by EAfan



Category: Pride and Prejudice - Jane Austen
Genre: F/M, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-21
Updated: 2017-12-31
Packaged: 2019-02-18 04:04:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 20,719
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13092045
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EAfan/pseuds/EAfan
Summary: In her parents' attic, and in the basement of a building he owns, Beth Bennet and Will Darcy make similar discoveries—and each one has an encounter with someone from the past. Can star-crossed lovers from the past change the fate of their descendants? Set in the present-day,  and in early 1900s Boston.





	1. Beth

**Chapter 1: Beth**

Beth Bennet sighed as she entered her childhood home in Roxbury, Massachusetts on Thursday morning, ready for another full day of cleaning and sorting. _Today won’t be so bad,_ she reminded herself. Yesterday, as she boxed up photos, albums, and family heirlooms, she found herself frequently sobbing as she remembered both her parents, her mother who had died a few years’ earlier, and her father, who had passed away this summer.

Today she had a slightly different task ahead of her: going through the many boxes in the attic, and determining which items there should be preserved, and which could be donated or discarded. The goal was to empty the house and prepare it for sale, and she was spending her winter break to make that possible.

It was a good time to get away from the stress and tension of work at Evergreen State College in Olympia, Washington,* as well as to spend time with family. Furthermore, she had volunteered for this job. Although her older sister Janet lived the closest, in the Boston suburb of Brookline, her demanding job as Chief of Pediatrics at Mass General Hospital and family responsibilities with three young children kept her too busy to devote the time required to clean out Dad’s home. Her younger sister Lynette had pleaded busyness as well due to her acting career in Los Angeles, even though outside of a few parts as extras, she spent a lot more time working at temp jobs than as an actress.

So the task was left to her. Intense emotions aside, Beth was happy to do it. She wanted to make sure the important memories from their family were preserved, and the attic task even held some excitement for her. As a junior professor of African-American history, she suspected that her family’s attic held a trove of historical treasures. She had grown up hearing so much family lore about her distant ancestor who had run away from a South Carolina plantation in 1845, arriving in Boston. There, he was taken in by a free black family, who taught him to read and eventually allowed their daughter to marry him. He had taken the family’s last name, Bennet, as his own, and had gone on to establish an abolitionist newsletter.

When Beth was a teenager, her father had unearthed a crate of documents in the attic written about and by this ancestor, and had donated them to the Museum of African American History in Beacon Hill. He had always said that he believed many more such gems remained, but prior to having a chance to explore them, he had had to become a caretaker for her mother who had MS, and then, after her death, was faced with his own cancer for several years before succumbing. Beth could think of no greater legacy for her parents than to discover the stories that remained in those dusty boxes and chests.

A few minutes after she climbed the attic stairs, her cell phone rang. It was Janet. “Hey girl,” her sister said. “How’s it look so far?”

“There is so much stuff up here…” Beth paused to sneeze. “And it’s so dusty! My allergies are killing me right now.”

“Well, take frequent breaks and wear a face mask if you have one. You’re coming over for dinner tonight, right?”

“Of course! You know I wouldn’t miss spending as much time with the kiddos as I can. When can I babysit?”

Janet laughed. “Whenever you want! But not tomorrow night. You’re going out with Chase and me to MGH’s winter fundraiser. Our nanny will watch the kids.”

Beth groaned. “Are you trying to fix me up again?”

“Not fix you up exactly. Just introduce you to someone.”

“Oh great, introduce me to someone who lives here in Boston, when I live all the way across the country.”

“Hey, if you hit it off, he’s rich. He can fly out to visit you whenever he wants. Anyway, he’s a nice guy, he’s gorgeous, and he’s a good friend of Chase’s.”

Beth sighed. “You’re not going to let me out of this, are you?”

“Nope!” Janet chuckled. “Even if nothing comes from it, you need to at least have some fun while you’re here. This is a huge job you’re doing right now, and I really appreciate it.”

“Yeah, well, you know it means a lot to me to do it. Speaking of which, I need to get back to it.”

“All right then. Love you, sis.”

“Love you, too.”

A few hours into her exploration, Beth knew she had found a goldmine—a journal from the years 1911-1912 written by her great-great-great aunt, whose name had also been Elizabeth Bennet. The original Beth Bennet (or Eliza, as it appeared she was called) was also a part of family lore, because she had been a suffragette. Beth’s pulse quickened, realizing that she might have in her hands the foundation for her next academic research project. Calculating back, Beth determined that Eliza Bennet would have been about 20 or 21 when the journal was written. Were these her formative years, setting the stage for her to become the firebrand feminist she became? Beth knew that Eliza had never married, and wondered if the journal would reveal why. Had she ever fallen in love, but didn’t want to conform to society’s strictures for women at the time? Or perhaps she loved women instead of men, something society would have considered disgraceful back then. Or maybe romance wasn’t part of her thinking at all, so devoted she was to the causes she espoused.

Taking the journal with her, Beth went downstairs to eat the soup and sandwich she had picked up at Panera Bread on the drive from her hotel to the house. Carefully turning the well-worn pages, she began to read. Within minutes she was laughing. As a young teacher, Eliza had certainly felt strong emotions about a man she called F. One such passage read:

_“F means to frighten me by coming to my classroom each morning and staring at me, perhaps to convince me that my skills in pedagogy are inadequate. I will not be alarmed, though I am the most junior of teachers at this school. There is a stubbornness about me that never can bear to be frightened at the will of others. My courage always rises at every attempt to intimidate me._

_“Indeed, I refer to him as F in this diary rather than by his honorific, as my private means of rebellion. Jane would no doubt be shocked if she knew—and even more were she to discover that sometimes I enjoy his observations, for he is quite handsome to look at.”_

In another passage, she wrote:

_“Insufferable man! F claims to be of such a superior mind as to keep all his weaknesses and pride under good regulation. As if such a thing were possible for anyone claiming the mantle of human being!”_

Beth smiled. Eliza was a feisty soul. It was no wonder she had gone on to fight for women’s rights.

More about F. Since his introduction, Eliza had mentioned him on nearly every page. She claimed to despise him, but wrote about him so frequently that Beth presumed Eliza was a bit blind to her feelings.

_“More than once during my noon-time rambles in the Public Garden have I unexpectedly met F. How perverse the mischance that should bring him there! To prevent its ever happening again, I informed him that the Garden was a favorite haunt of mine, as I dearly love to watch the Swan Boats carrying their passengers.** How it could occur a second time, therefore, was very odd! -- Yet it did, and even a third. It seemed like willful ill-nature, or a voluntary penance, for on these occasions it was not merely a few formal inquiries and an awkward pause and then away, but he actually thought it necessary to turn back and walk with me as we returned to the school-house. He never says a great deal, nor do I give myself the trouble of talking or of listening much; but it struck me in the course of our third rencontre that he was asking some odd unconnected questions—about my pleasure in being at the Darcy School, my love of solitary walks, and the happiness of my recently married dear friend Charlotte.”_

At this point, Beth laughed out loud. F was hitting on her! She supposed that Eliza was young enough and sheltered enough not to recognize it. Beth paused for a moment. Eliza was a naïve young woman being pursued by a sophisticated man. Had this F broken Eliza’s heart? Was that why she had never married?

There was a knock at the front door, and Beth rose to see who it was. Peering outside, she saw a tall man standing on the snow-covered walkway. He was a white man, and even though she knew Roxbury had gentrified a lot in the last decade or so, so it wasn’t unusual anymore to see white people in this neighborhood, his stiff wool coat and old-fashioned hat made him seem extremely out of place.

Deciding that he wasn’t dangerous, she took a chance and opened the door. “Yes?” she asked.

The man removed his hat, and then paced a bit on the front stairs. He was very handsome, with tousled dark curls and brown eyes. “May I come in?”

Beth was starting to regret opening the door. “No! I have no idea why you’re here. What do you want?”

The man winced. “Please, Eliza,” he begged. “You must allow me to tell you how ardently I admire and love you.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> * The tension at Evergreen State College refers to a controversy that occurred earlier this year. Organizers on campus hold an annual Day of Absence, during which "people of color who chose to do so generally attend an off-campus event, while whites who chose to participate stayed on campus to attend lectures, workshops and discussions about how race and racism shape social structures and everyday life." This is followed by an annual Day of Presence, in which students and faculty reconnect in shared learning activities. "Last spring the organizers switched the two events; the event for students of color was held on-campus, and the event for white students was held off-campus." Even though attendance at all events was voluntary, a faculty member argued that "whites were being coerced to leave campus." This controversy made national news. (Quotes are from the Huffington Post, 8/11/17)
> 
>  ** The Public Garden is an enchanting floral park in downtown Boston. The Swan Boats, which were introduced in 1877, are pleasure boats adorned with twin swans that meander through the Public Garden’s pond.


	2. Fitzwilliam

**Chapter 2: Fitzwilliam**

“What the hell?!” Beth began to close the door, but the man inserted his foot and prevented her from doing so.

“Eliza, please,” he begged again, stepping inside and closing the door behind him.

 _Oh no, he’s some sort of psycho!_ Beth thought. What was she supposed to do now? Her phone was in the kitchen. Could she run in time to get it before he grabbed her and did whatever sick thing was on his mind? Probably not, so she started scanning the room for a weapon.

Spotting the fireplace poker, she darted over to it, and braced it in front of her body. “You have three seconds to leave this house before I bash you in the head with this!”

The man’s eyes widened, and he held out his hands. “What are you doing? I know your parents aren’t home and I shouldn’t be here, but it’s the only opportunity I have to speak to you in private.”

Although her heart was racing, Beth’s confusion began to overtake her fear. Was this some mentally ill dude having a hallucination? Maybe he was harmless, but maybe not. Keeping her eyes on the man and the poker at the ready, she started moving slowly backwards toward the kitchen. “I’m going to get my phone and call my sister, okay? She works at MGH and can get you some help.”

“No, don’t call your sister!” he said. “Please, allow me five minutes to talk to you.”

Beth was now standing in the entrance to the kitchen. She could see her phone, less than four feet away, from the corner of her eye. She gripped the poker harder. “All right, then. You have five minutes. Don’t come any closer to me.”

He nodded, and then began to pace across the living room. Finally, he spoke. "In vain have I struggled. It will not do. My feelings will not be repressed. I love you, Eliza, with all my heart!”

Beth's astonishment was beyond expression. Who was this man, and why did he keep calling her Eliza, the very name of the great-aunt whose journal she had just been reading? 

“From the day I first met you at the Darcy School...”

Beth stared. Through Eliza's journal, she had become familiar with the Darcy School, which had been established to educate black children with the support of a wealthy white family named the Darcys. Eliza had started writing in her journal on the day she began teaching there after completing Teacher’s College at Daytona Educational and Industrial Training School, the HBCU* founded by Mary McCleod Bethune. This man was calling her Eliza, and referring to the Darcy school! It couldn’t be a coincidence.

“Is this some sort of joke?” she asked. “Did my sisters put you up to it?” She couldn’t imagine her sisters doing something like that, but how else would this man know about all this?

“Your sisters?” he repeated. “No, of course not. Eliza, I know that neither your family nor mine would approve of our union. Indeed, mine would consider it a degradation for me to marry a colored woman. I know that our races are not equal, that you are my inferior, and we would be outcasts in society if I were to attach myself to you. Yet despite all my endeavors, I have not been able to conquer my feelings for you. Please, dear Eliza, end my suffering and reward me by accepting my hand!”

In spite of being stunned, Beth could sense the sincerity of the man's affection, and she was at first sorry for the pain he was about to receive; until, pissed off by his racist language, she lost all her compassion. She tried, however, to compose herself to answer him with patience. It would be stupid to anger a guy who was possibly having a psychotic break.

As she looked at him, she could easily see that he had no doubt of a favorable answer to his bizarre proposal. He spoke of apprehension and anxiety, but his face expressed real security. His cockiness ticked her off, but she had to know something before she responded. “What’s your name?”

He looked confused for a moment, then smiled. “Of course. You know me only as Mr. Darcy, but now, dear Eliza, you may call me by my Christian name, Fitzwilliam.”

 _Fitzwilliam Darcy ... he’s F_ , thought Beth. Eliza’s F. And if he was some re-enactor portraying the love of Eliza’s life, it was no wonder she had remained single.

He was waiting for her response, so she took a deep breath, and tried to speak in a way that someone thinking he was living back in 1912 would understand. "In situations like this, I believe I'm supposed to say thank you for the feelings you expressed. And if I could feel gratitude, I would thank you. But I can't. I wasn't expecting your proposal, and you have certainly offered it to me unwillingly.”

F looked extremely puzzled, but she continued. “I'm sorry to cause you any pain, and I hope it won’t last. And since it would be a degradation for you to marry a black woman anyway, I sure you’ll get over it soon enough.”

F, who was leaning against the mantlepiece with his eyes fixed on her face, seemed to catch her words with no less resentment than surprise. His complexion became pale with anger, and the disturbance of his mind was visible in every feature. He was struggling for the appearance of composure, and would not open his lips till he believed himself to have attained it. After some time, in a voice of forced calmness, he said, “And this is all the reply which I am to have the honor of expecting! I might, perhaps, wish to be informed why, with so little endeavor at civility, I am thus rejected!”

"I might as well ask,” Beth retorted, "why with so obvious a plan to offend and insult me, you chose to tell me that you loved me despite the fact that I’m such a degradation and inferior to you? How could I _not_ respond with incivility, if that’s what you want to call it?” She stopped suddenly, realizing she was speaking as herself and not as the ancestor he had so insulted. It didn’t matter. The jerk needed to hear her response. “Eliza is a black woman with a college degree. Do you know how few women of _any_ color had college degrees in 1912? Do you know what our ancestors overcame? I doubt your family could have endured the same struggles and come out with their humanity and sanity intact! How _dare_ you think that you’re somehow superior to us!”

As she pronounced these words F changed color. "And this," he cried, as he walked with quick steps across the room, "is your opinion of me! This is the estimation in which you hold me! I thank you for explaining it so fully. My faults, according to this calculation, are heavy indeed! But perhaps," he added, stopping in his walk, and turning towards her, "these offences might have been overlooked, had not your pride been hurt by my honest confession of the scruples that had long prevented my forming any serious design. These bitter accusations might have been suppressed, had I concealed my struggles and flattered you instead. But disguise of every sort is my abhorrence. Nor am I ashamed of the feelings I related. They were natural and just. Could you expect me to rejoice in the inferiority of your skin color? -- to congratulate myself on the hope of relations, whose condition in life is so decidedly beneath my own?”

Beth felt herself growing angrier every moment; yet she tried to the utmost to speak with composure when she said, “You’re mistaken if you think I’m just upset about _how_ you proposed. No, what you said is what’s in your heart. Your racism, arrogance, and bigotry are _disgusting_ to me. With attitudes like that, you’re the last man in the world I would _ever_ marry!”

Again his astonishment was obvious, as was hers, since she had once more forgotten that she wasn't actually Eliza receiving an obnoxious proposal from an arrogant white man. F looked at her with an expression of mingled incredulity and mortification. “You have said quite enough, madam. I perfectly comprehend your feelings, and have now only to be ashamed of what my own have been. Forgive me for having taken up so much of your time, and accept my best wishes for your health and happiness.”

With that, he turned and walked out of the house, slamming the door shut behind him. Several minutes passed before Beth felt herself calm down. She double-locked the door, put the poker away, and then briefly considered calling Janet to tell her what had just happened. Then she laughed. Who would ever believe such a story? The only person who might understand what had just happened, she realized, was Eliza. And so she returned to her great-great-great Aunt’s journal, hoping to uncover the mystery of Eliza and F.

~~%~~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> * An HBCU is a "historically black college and university," created after the Civil War and throughout the segregation era to serve African-Americans who were barred from attending most predominantly white institutions of higher learning. Daytona Educational and Industrial Training School was later renamed Bethune-Cookman College (now University), and still exists to this day.


	3. Will

**Chapter 3: Will**

William Darcy poured himself into his current reading material on Thursday evening, hoping to finish as much as possible by the following day so that he could leave early for the Mass General Hospital benefit dinner. Although he was generally loath to attend any public functions, let alone a black-tie event, this one was important. Not because he was an MGH donor, although he was, albeit anonymously. No, stepping outside his comfort zone for one night was something he owed to two of the most important people in his life—his mother, and his best friend Chase. MGH had provided excellent care for his mother during the days when her health was rapidly declining, and Chase had been there for him in so many ways over the last near decade, including helping him re-acclimate to life in the States over the last six months, after living for six years in Europe. 

He thought about how Chase and he had become friends. Both 1L’s at Harvard Law School nine years earlier, they knew each other somewhat from common courses. But their friendship began with Will making a fool of himself, back when he was still known as William Wickham. He was making a very awkward, drunken pass at a woman at a party, and failing miserably. Chase had observed the woman looking disgusted as she walked away, and laughed at him.

“What are you laughing at?!” he had grumbled.

“Sorry, man,” Chase chuckled. “It’s just that you’re a rich, good-looking white boy. Women should be falling all over you. How’d you manage to blow that one?”

“Because life sucks, that’s why!” Will stared down at his beer, wanting another one, but doubting he could even stand up to get it. 

“What could possibly be wrong with your life?”

“Like why the hell I’m even at law school, for one thing.”

“To get rich. Or to stay rich. That’s what most of us are here for, right?”

“I was supposed to be here learning how to ‘protect my old man’s business interests.’” Will made finger quotes. “Keep the bastard out of jail is what he really meant. Well, it’s too late for that.”

Chase looked at him curiously. “Your dad’s going to jail?”

Will nodded miserably. “Probably. He was arrested this morning. I hope he dies there, and then rots in hell.”

“Wow,” Chase said softly. “Of all the things you could have said, I definitely didn’t expect that. But I can relate. My dad’s locked up, too.”

And so began a friendship between two young men at the crossroads, trying to figure out how to make different life choices than the men that sired them. Of course, there were many key differences between them. Chase’s dad had made the poor choice to buy and sell drugs because he had few other opportunities. Will’s dad, on the other hand, had had every advantage, and still chose to waste it by defrauding people of their life savings with Ponzi scheme securities. 

Chase’s mother was also a much stronger woman than Will’s had been, working hard to keep her kids on the straight and narrow, and eventually sending them to some of the best colleges in America. Will’s mother, however, had drowned out her shame at the family scandal in alcohol and prescription drugs, until it destroyed her health and killed her. Chase had stayed loyal to him through it all, even as their Harvard classmates began to shun him when it became known that he was the son of the fraudster George Wickham.

Without Chase, he didn’t know how he would have made it, but poor Gia wasn’t so lucky. His sister was in middle school when their dad was arrested, and her classmates treated her brutally, especially because some of their family members had been George Wickham’s victims. His heart broke for her, because he couldn’t do anything about it. His father’s money, what little he had left after paying the lawyers, went to make restitution to the victims. His mother was in and out of the hospital, and he was trying his best to finish school so he could make some kind of life for them.

He turned 25 two weeks before his law school graduation, and knew it was time to make a change. He had come into his trust inheritance from his mother’s side of the family, the Darcy’s, on his birthday. He arranged to have his mother revert to her maiden name, and changed his own and his sister’s last names to the same, updated their passports, and moved his family to Europe. This would give Gia a chance to start over in a place where she was unknown, with a new name that might protect her from nosy kids on social media. And maybe it would lift his mother’s spirits to be away from the terrible publicity. For Gia it had helped; for his mother, who died a few months after they left the U.S., it did not.

He obtained his law license in Brussels, and began working in international contract law. He worked just enough to sustain their lifestyle, but spent much of his time learning about and donating anonymously to charities, to somehow make up for the terrible things his father had done. He laid low during his time in Europe, dating sparsely and socializing little. Chase remained his closest friend, keeping in touch with him during the six years he was overseas, even though he had missed the most important events of Chase’s life, his wedding and the birth of his now three-year-old triplets. 

Given all this, the least Will could do was support the gala for the hospital where Chase’s wife worked.

Blind dates were one thing he hated even more than public, black-tie affairs, but in this case, he was open to the idea. Chase’s wife Janet was a sweetheart and a real babe. If her sister was anything like her, he would enjoy meeting her. And a date would at least keep him from having to mingle too much with the other guests, some of whom might recognize him as his father’s son. 

Chase even told him that they might find some interesting things to talk about. “She’s a professor of African-American history. Tell her about what you found. She might have some insights.”

One of the things Will had inherited from his maternal grandfather, besides his trust, was a piece of property, a building on Joy Street in downtown Boston. When he left for Europe, he placed a property manager in charge of leasing the place. When he returned, he set up a law office in a small suite in the building. Chase had offered to help him get in the door at his firm, but Will still wanted to keep a low profile. After passing the Massachusetts Bar, he maintained a caseload of wills, trusts, and a few of his old international contract clients, but mostly, he did as he had in Belgium—learned about the needs in the community and tried to support them without fanfare.

After Will had settled in, the property manager told him about some archived documents stored in the basement. Curious, Will had had the boxes brought up to his office, and what he had learned when he started perusing through them amazed him. 

Will had long known that Beacon Hill, in the shadow of the golden dome of the Massachusetts State House, had been home for centuries to many of the wealthiest Bostonians. What he hadn’t known was that the neighborhood had once had a large African-American population, composed of those who were servants to the rich and well-connected. A short distance from his building was the African Meeting House, the oldest black church in America, and now the home of Boston’s Museum of African American History. And his very building had once been the Darcy School, an early educational institution for black children.

When Gia finished university earlier this year, she had encouraged him to return to the U.S. “You’re done taking care of me,” she told him. “Go live your own life.” He had considered returning to someplace new, maybe on the West Coast, but Gia insisted he go back to Boston. “I don’t know, I just feel like you’re meant to be there,” she said. “Maybe to make peace with our past.”

When he learned about the Darcy School, he began to believe Gia was right. Maybe this was what he had been searching for over the last decade—proof that his family, on one side at least, wasn’t evil, that they had made some good contributions to the world.

He had consulted with the museum, which had begun a project to uncover the story of the school and the many students who had passed through its doors during its sixty-year history. He had donated most of the archives to them, but two weeks ago, the curator had returned a few more personal documents related specifically to his family.

Among them was a journal written by his great-great grandfather, Fitzwilliam Darcy, who had served for a time as headmaster of the school. This was the book that had absorbed so much of his attention recently, and by turns had intrigued him and disturbed him. After reading one passage, he remarked to the air in his best Darth Vader voice, _“The condescension is strong with this one.”_ Fitz, as he had taken to calling his ancestor, had written, 

_“The Negro children look to us for guidance, for their minds are weak and unable to learn with the quickness of the white race. It is my honor to provide an example for them to aspire to, for although they will never reach my heights of intelligence, they will surpass the many ignorant among their own people.”_

Mockery aside, this passage and others like it had shocked him, and he had almost stopped reading. When he told Chase, his friend had laughed. “You didn’t really expect white folks at the turn of the 20th century to be enlightened, did you?”

“No, but man! I didn’t expect my ancestor to be so…”

“Racist?” Chase supplied. “Ignorant?” He shrugged. “Welcome to America, my friend.”

Will had swallowed his discouragement and kept reading, because the journal was so fascinating. He had come to a section from the time in Fitz’s life when he first fell in love. Her name was Eliza, and she was a teacher at the school. 

_“Each day I arrive at school with great elation, for I will have the chance to see my darling Eliza. At first, I noticed little of her, other than that the children loved her. But soon I found that her face was rendered uncommonly intelligent by the beautiful expression of her dark eyes. I have begun to make excuses to visit her classroom every day, silently watching to observe her performance as a new teacher, but in truth, I am there to inhale her beauty and etch it into my heart.”_

_Fitz, you dirty dog!_ Will grinned. At this point, he couldn’t put the book down, because he wanted to know what had happened to Eliza. He knew Fitz hadn’t married her. Will’s great-great grandmother Sarah was a member of the Lowell family, of the ditty, _“And this is good old Boston / The home of the bean and the cod / Where the Lowells talk only to Cabots / and the Cabots talk only to God.”_

He didn’t know much about Eliza yet, but he knew that Fitz had loved her dearly. Had she lacked the pedigree of the Lowell family? Had Fitz’s family forbidden him from marrying her? He knew he really should go home for the evening, get some dinner, but not yet. Fitz and his great love Eliza were just too captivating.

He heard the front door of his office suite open, and looked up to see a young black woman enter. His initial impression, based on the long dark dress she wore, was that she was one of the homeless people from the nearby Boston Common who had wandered into the building. 

“May I help you?” he asked. 

As the woman drew nearer and removed the hood from her cape, he knew that his first impression was wrong. Although she was unadorned by jewelry or makeup and wore her hair pulled back in a severe bun, she was very beautiful, and far too healthy looking to be homeless. His second thought was that she was a re-enactor for an event at the African-American Museum, since he could now see that she was dressed in period clothing. 

“Mr. Darcy?” she said. “I was hoping to find you here tonight. If I may have a few moments of your time, I’d like to talk to you.”


	4. Eliza

**Chapter 4: Eliza**

“Please have a seat,” Will offered, and the woman took it. 

She seemed hesitant to speak, and Will wondered, despite his first _and_ second impressions, whether she was there for legal advice. Hesitance wasn’t uncommon for people with legal issues, so he waited.

Finally, she said, “I hear that congratulations are in order.”

“For what?” 

“For your recent nuptials.” At his confused look, she added, “I exchange letters with a few of the teachers, Lucy and Annabelle. They informed me.” She smiled. “Miss Sarah Lowell is a lucky woman.”

She was congratulating him on his marriage to Sarah Lowell… his great-great grandmother. What in the world was going on?

A thought occurred to him. “Is this a re-creation for the school? Did Shayla send you?”

“I beg your pardon?” the woman said, now looking confused herself. 

“Shayla Thompson. You know, the curator at the African-American Museum?” She still looked puzzled, and he added, “I know she’s creating an exhibit about the Darcy School. Is this part of it?”

She furrowed her brow. “I’m afraid I am unacquainted with a Miss Thompson, and as I haven’t worked at the school in some time, I am unaware of the exhibit.”

Okay, she wasn’t going to break character, so he could play along. He just wished Shayla had told him about it ahead of time. “So, how can I help you tonight, Miss…? I’m sorry, I didn’t catch your name.”

At this she laughed, a beautiful laugh that made her eyes sparkle. “It’s only been two years. I don’t believe I have aged significantly in that time. I would think that after your atrocious proposal, you would certainly remember me.”

Now he was extremely confused, even more so when he saw the hurt look that crossed her face at his lack of recognition. 

His heart started beating faster. “Are you… Eliza?”

She smiled softly and nodded. Will exhaled slowly, a bit blown away. It hadn’t occurred to him that Eliza had been African-American. If Shayla’s research was accurate, that meant that Fitz had proposed to Eliza. In 1912, his great-great grandfather had fallen in love with and proposed to a black woman. Their families, society, everything would have been against them. He was beginning to understand why they had never married. 

“You said my proposal was… atrocious?” Remembering some of the horribly bigoted attitudes Fitz had expressed in his journal, Will really hoped he hadn’t carried them over into what should have been the ultimate expression of love to a woman.

She laughed again, that beautiful laugh. “I do understand now, and forgive you. Although I can never accept your belief that I am inferior because of my skin color, you were right that our families would have opposed our union. Your manner of expression merely prevented the pain we would have caused them had I accepted.” 

She arched her eyebrows playfully. “I do hope you performed much better when you asked for Miss Lowell’s hand.”

“You would have accepted?” Why had he asked that? And why was his heart longing to hear her say yes? This was merely a role he was playing, and she was an actress. Yet her beauty, her playful manner, the sweetness and kindness he could sense in her, were utterly enchanting. If the real Eliza had been anything like this, it was no wonder Fitz had lost his heart to her. 

She pursed her lips, as if to hold back more laughter. “Now, Mr. Darcy, that is not a question a recently married man should ask another woman."

"I'm sorry that I hurt you," he said softly. Again, he didn’t know why he had said that, or why he was taking this role-play so seriously. Yet he sensed pain beneath the woman’s smile, and knew that he—or did he mean Fitz?—had caused it.

She nodded gently, graciously acknowledging his apology. "You should know that you did me a great service.”

“I did?”

“Indeed. I admit that I didn’t return to the school because I was a bit mortified to face you again after my harsh words to you. Instead, I wrote to my cousin in New York City, and asked if I could go to live with her.”

“So you moved to New York,” Will said, hoping she would keep talking and answer his burning questions about Eliza’s fate.

“Yes, and it was the most wonderful thing I could have done. I had long thought my purpose was to teach, and I do still dearly love children. However, my cousin is actively involved with the suffragettes, and she drew me in. Are you aware of them and their cause?”

“Yes, they’re the women fighting for the right to vote.”

“Suffrage, Mr. Darcy, is a cause I have found far more important than even filling young minds with knowledge. For if those young minds are female, their opportunities to use their wisdom and learning are limited. I hope to change that.”

“You will, and in a short time, I imagine.” Two years after 1912… this conversation, if it had happened, would have taken place in 1914, just six years prior to the ratification of the 19th Amendment giving women the right to vote.

She smiled. “I thank you for your faith in our cause, and I thank you for setting me on that path.” She stood up. “I must be going, but it was a true pleasure to see you again. I wish you and Mrs. Darcy every happiness.”

She gracefully swept out of the room before he could react, and suddenly he knew he had to see more of her. He jumped up from his chair and raced into the hallway, hoping to catch up to her and invite her to dinner so he could get to know the real woman apart from the character she had just played. He didn’t see her anywhere, nor did he hear her footsteps on the stairs. He looked over at the elevator. No buttons were lit, indicating that she hadn’t taken the elevator. How had she disappeared so fast?

After a few minutes, he returned to his office and sat at his desk, wondering why he felt so bereft, more so than at any time since his dad was imprisoned and his mother died. He thought about calling Shayla the next day to ask about the woman who had visited, but something told him that the museum curator might not have the answers he sought. He glanced over at Fitz’s journal and reached for it again, hoping to learn more about the incomparable Eliza.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I would love to hear your comments about this story!


	5. Together

**Chapter 5: Together**

“You look _phenomenal!”_ Janet told Beth as she descended the stairs of her sister’s home. 

Beth had to admit that she looked pretty good. As far as dressing up, she had only brought a little black dress with her from Washington, in case she connected with some of her high school friends and they invited her to go out dancing. Janet had told her that simply wouldn’t do for a formal event, and insisted she come over early enough to try on some of Janet’s full-length gowns. Beth had selected a form-fitting burgundy halter dress, and borrowed a pair of Janet’s stiletto heels. Even that wasn’t enough to convince her sister that, as Janet made her repeat to much laughter by both sisters: “I am no longer a graduate student. I am a grown, professional woman.” No, to satisfy her sister, Beth had to get completely made up and wear a pair of Janet’s gold and pearl teardrop earrings and matching necklace.

Chase shared his wife’s praise. “I’m going to have to scrape Will off the ground when he sees you.”

Beth rolled her eyes. “Chase, please. I’m going to go and be nice to your friend, but don’t make a big deal out of it. Remember that I’m going back to Olympia in two weeks.”

Chase laughed and promised to be chill about the evening. After hugging and kissing the couple’s triplets, the three adults loaded into Chase’s BMW and drove to the Sheraton at Copley Place. Shortly after leaving their coats with the coat check, Chase approached a tall man with dark hair whose back was to them. The two men embraced, and then turned to walk back toward Janet and Beth.

Beth’s mouth dropped. The crazy man, the one claiming to be Eliza’s F, was walking toward her!

The man came to an abrupt halt and stared at her. Then he smiled, as if he were happy to see her even after their blowup the previous day, which really freaked her out. _This was Chase’s friend?!_

Will barely noticed Janet giving him a kiss on the cheek and telling him it was good to see him. All he saw before him was the woman who had portrayed Eliza. She had been beautiful the previous evening; tonight, she was exquisite. “It’s you,” he breathed, unable to contain his joy. 

Beth glared at him in response. “It’s you!” she replied in a voice that was decidedly less happy.

A baffled Chase looked back and forth between the two. “Do you already know each other?’

“No!” “Yes!” They spoke in unison, the No coming from Beth.

They spoke simultaneously again. “Okay, maybe.” “Kind of.”

Janet took her husband’s arm. “Baby, do you think we should get something to drink and let them get acquainted? Or re-acquainted, or whatever?”

Chase made a funny face, indicating that he was extremely curious about whatever was going on, but nodded and let his wife lead him away.

Although Beth was tempted to beg her sister and brother-in-law not to leave her alone with this guy, she had never been one to back down from a challenge. As soon as she watched them enter the ballroom where the gala was taking place, she turned to the man with her fiercest expression. “What the hell were you doing at my parent’s house yesterday?”

“I wasn’t at your parent’s house. You came to my office last night!”

Beth folded her arms across her chest. “Really? You’re just going to deny it?”

As much as he wanted to get to know this woman, he was starting to wonder what kind of game she was playing. “Yes, I categorically deny it! I was at my office all day yesterday, I have no idea where your parents live, and I’d never seen you before in my life before you came to my office last night pretending to be Eliza!”

Beth stared at him. He knew who Eliza was. It had to be him! “What kind of joke is this? You came to my house yesterday, pretending to be the man who loved Eliza, and proceeded to spew a bunch of racist garbage!”

“Why would I do something like that? First of all, I would never, _ever_ spew racist garbage! And it _had_ to be you at my office last night. Your face is unforgettable, and how else would you know who Eliza is?”

“How do _you_ know who Eliza is? Did Janet tell you, and you decided to play some sick joke?”

Will stopped responding, feeling much more hurt than angry. He didn’t understand what was going on, and being accused by a woman he found so attractive was painful. One thing he knew, he didn’t want to argue with her anymore.

When he finally felt calm enough to speak again, he answered softly, “I read about Eliza in my great-great grandfather’s journal.” 

His words seemed to arrest her anger. “What’s his name?” she asked.

“My great-great grandfather? Fitzwilliam Darcy.”

“Oh my God,” she said. She chewed her lip, like she was mulling it over. She seemed as confused and troubled as he was, making him regret that he had doubted her.

“Hey, can we start over? We haven’t even been properly introduced.” He held out his hand. “I’m Will Darcy. I was born and raised in the Boston area, but I lived in Belgium for the last six years before moving back home six months ago. I’ve known Chase since our first year in law school, and he can vouch for my honesty.”

Beth hesitated. Should she trust this guy? She considered the fact that Chase trusted him, and decided that it at least merited giving him a chance. She exhaled, and slowly reached out to shake his hand. “I’m Beth Bennet. Also born and raised in Boston, but I now live in Washington State. And although they’d probably tell you that I’m a smart mouth _extraordinaire_ , Janet and Chase would vouch for my honesty, too.”

He smiled. “Nice to meet you, Beth. I mean that. Chase and Janet have told me a lot of great things about you.”

Beth ignored his flattery. “It seems like we both had a weird experience yesterday. Maybe we can talk about it, and try to figure out what’s going on.”

He nodded and asked if she wanted to go first.

“Sure,” Beth said. She told him about finding Eliza’s journal, learning about a man Eliza called F, and then the arrival of her strange visitor “who looked exactly like you, and called himself by the same name as your great-great-grandfather, which coincidentally starts with an F.”

“It wasn’t me,” Will reiterated.

“So you say. For now, I’ll take your word for it. Anyway, he claimed to be there to propose to Eliza, who he thought was me. I can’t even begin to describe how awful his proposal was.”

Will groaned and covered his eyes. “Was it… _atrocious?”_

Beth laughed, and Will’s heart jumped. She laughed just like the woman calling herself Eliza. 

“Atrocious is a good word for it. Sounds like you know something about it.”

“That’s how the woman who called herself Eliza described it. She thought I was him.”

“Was she as pissed off as I was? I went off on him, and he stormed out of the house, thank God.”

“Not anymore. A couple of years had passed since he made the proposal, and she said she had forgiven him.” He chuckled. “She probably went off on him when it first happened, though. She said her words were harsh.”

Beth blew out her breath. “Okay, this is more and more bizarre. Tell me more about this Eliza.”

“She was beautiful and charming. She looked and sounded just like you.”

“It _wasn’t_ me!”

Will grinned. “So you say. For now I’ll take your word for it.”

She smirked. “Nice comeback. So do we have a pair of doppelgängers going around re-enacting our distant ancestors?”

“That’s unlikely.”

“What else could it be?”

“Time travel?” he suggested.

Beth rolled her eyes. 

“Hey, come on! The whole thing is weird, so the explanation probably is, too!”

“All right, I’ll bite. If it was time travel, how? There are no DeLorean time machines around.”

“You said you were reading Eliza’s journal just before it happened. Well, I was reading Fitz’s. Maybe the journals are some sort of portal between eras, and they came through it.”

Beth nodded. “Okay, that’s a possibility. Or maybe they were ghostly apparitions.”

Will shook his head. “No, Eliza was too real.”

“How do you know? Did you touch her?”

“No, but…”

“No, you’re right. F pushed his way into my front door. I don’t think a ghost could do that.”

“He did _what?_ Did you call the police?”

“My phone was in the kitchen. And I’m not eager to call the cops anyway. I grabbed a poker and was prepared to use it if I had to. Why are you laughing?”

“Because here I am feeling protective of you from someone who was basically _me._ And then I learn that you were ready to stab me with a poker.”

“I thought you said it wasn’t you.”

“But it kind of is me. Just like Eliza is kind of you.”

“What, we’re like their reincarnations? This is getting too deep for me.”

“Or maybe we met our doubles from an alternate universe.”

“Like when your counterpart from another universe comes through a breach!” Beth said excitedly. They were both laughing now, which seemed to be the most appropriate response to their shared, improbable encounters.

“Or maybe they’re from the Upside Down. Nah, that’s too creepy.”

“Actually, F was kind of creepy. He was a—”

“Big honkin’ racist,” Will said grimly. “I know. It’s amazing that he fell in love with Eliza.”

“Go to any black family reunion and you’ll see people of every color and shade. How do you think that happened? Racism doesn’t stop sexual attraction.”

“It’s still mind-blowing that he proposed to her.”

“But he screwed up big-time by letting his racist freak fly. The sad thing is, he probably didn’t even realize it. He probably thought he was doing her a big favor by asking for her hand.” Beth shook her head. “Anyway, I think her rejection was for the best. Life would have been very hard for them if they had tried to marry in that society, and Eliza certainly wouldn’t have put up with someone who didn’t see her as his equal.”

Will nodded, feeling a little heart-broken for their star-crossed ancestors. “Beth, why do you think we received these visitations? There has to be a reason.”

“Perhaps I’m supposed to tell their story,” Beth suggested. “I am a historian, after all.”

Will had a different idea. “Or maybe it’s because you and I were meant to meet each other.” _And more?_ he wondered.

She raised her eyebrows—just like Eliza had!—and smiled, so he presumed that she wasn’t completely opposed to that idea.

“Glad to see you two getting along.” Chase’s voice startled them both, and made them wonder if he had overheard any of their conversation.

“What are you talking about?” Janet asked.

“Nothing. We’re just geeking out on sci-fi stuff,” Beth said quickly.

“Well, you pair of geeks, they’re about to serve dinner. Come join us.”

Will and Beth glanced at each other, silently communicating. “I’m not very hungry,” he said. He actually was, but he wasn’t ready to end his conversation with Beth. 

“Neither am I,” Beth added.

“Oh come on, you have to eat!”

“Chase.” Will looked at his friend sternly. “Go away.”

Janet smirked. “Baby, they’re trying to get rid of us.” Beth was now making “shoo!” gestures at them.

“You get that sense, too? What should we do?” 

Janet started laughing. “I think we should give them some space.”

Chase gave an exaggerated sigh. “I guess we have no choice. Y’all be good now.” He held out his arm to his wife, and they walked away.

Will and Beth both laughed as they watched them go. “If we do miss dinner, maybe we can grab something later.”

Will nodded. “I’d like that. Hey, do you want to go up to the top of the Pru? I haven’t been there in years.”

“Neither have I. Let’s go!”

Prudential Tower, the second tallest building in Boston, was adjacent to the Sheraton. Its top floor Skywalk Observatory provided a 360-degree view of Greater Boston. They rode the elevator up and purchased tickets, even though the security guard informed them that only a half hour remained before the Observatory’s 8 PM closing.

They walked around, looking at different parts of the city through mounted binoculars stationed every few feet. Will pointed out the location of the Darcy School and his office building. 

“Wow!” Beth said. “You’re right by the African Meeting House. My parents took us to functions there all the time when we were kids. Where do you live?”

“Right here in Back Bay, off Dartmouth Street.”

“Did you walk?”

“Actually, I took a Lyft. It’s a little too cold tonight.”

“You don’t have a car?”

He shook his head. “I haven’t had one since I moved to Europe. I got used to biking and car sharing there. When the weather’s good, I bike here in Boston, too. It’s a lot easier than trying to deal with traffic and parking.”

Beth grinned. “Me, too! I bike all over Olympia.”

“So…” he said slowly, “the next time you’re in Boston, or if I happen to visit Olympia, and the weather is nice, maybe we can go for a bike ride together?”

She glanced at him with a smile. “Are you asking me out, Will?”

He smiled back. “Yes, yes, I am. What do you think about that?”

Beth breathed in, wondering how in about half an hour she had gone from thinking Will was either crazy or a sick prankster, to dying to go out with him. _It’s the tux,_ she thought. _He looks so good in that tux!_ But she knew it was more than that. It was his warmth, his sense of humor, the fact that he seemed to be as quirky as she was, and their shared connection to Eliza and Fitz. Somehow, it created a bond that made it seem as if she had known Will forever.

She hadn’t answered him yet, so she assured him, “I would love to.” Will’s smile broadened, and he took her hand, interlacing their fingers together. 

“It seems like you like sci-fi as much as I do. Have you seen the new Star Wars movie yet?” she asked.

“I haven’t.”

“Do you want to go this weekend?”

“Are you asking _me_ out?” he grinned. 

“Yes, yes, I am. Especially because good weather in Olympia or Boston is a long way off, and I want to see you again a lot sooner than that.”

He looked at her with a tender expression. “So do I.”

They walked around a bit more, and he asked her to show him her family’s home. She pointed out the steeple of the First Church of Roxbury. “We’re a few blocks away. We’re planning to sell it, which is why I’ve been cleaning it out. It’s going to be very sad to give up our childhood home. What about you? Where’s your childhood home?”

"Weston, but we sold it a long time ago." He exhaled, thinking about how they'd had to sell it to pay legal bills, and knew he needed to tell her something that he'd never discussed with any woman he had dated over the last nine years. But Beth was special, and he couldn't withhold his heart from her. He had to know upfront that she wouldn't withhold hers from him. "Listen, before we go out again, you should know that my dad's a felon. He's serving 25 years in a federal penitentiary."

It didn’t seem to faze Beth. “So?” she said. 

“In case you want to change your mind.”

“Why would I? You’re not your dad.”

“He’s a notorious criminal.”

“Is he a serial killer?”

“No. A conman. But he hurt a lot of people. I’ve been trying to make up for it, but I don’t know if I ever can.”

“Why do you feel like it’s your job to make up for your father’s wrongs?”

“It has weighed on me for the last nine years. I feel like I have to, or else…”

“Or else what? Do you think you’ll become like him?”

Will shrugged.

Beth turned to face him, taking both his hands into her own. “Will, I know we just met tonight, but I feel as if I’ve known you forever. Does that make sense?”

“It makes perfect sense. I feel the same way.”

“Because of that connection, I _know_ what a good man you are. You’re special and caring, and I’m thrilled to see what our future holds. But it sounds like you’ve spent the last nine years not really living, all because of your dad. And I think you should stop. You deserve a full, wonderful, amazing life.”

Will’s heart swelled as Beth slipped her arms around his waist. He held her tightly, realizing that she was right, and that for the first time in years, he wanted to be fully alive—with her. 

“Five minutes until closing,” the security guard warned. Other people strolling along the Observatory began to walk toward the elevators. 

Beth started to pull away. “I guess we should head back.”

“Beth, wait,” Will said. He took her face in his hands, and she drew closer. They shared their first kiss, and Will wouldn’t have ended it until the security guard kicked them out, except that he spotted something. 

“What are you looking at?” Beth asked, and then turned her head and gasped. 

“You see them, too,” he whispered.

“Yes,” she said. Fitz and Eliza, wearing the clothing they had worn during their visits, were standing on the opposite side of the deck and looking at them with warm smiles. Only now they were fainter, more ghostly. Neither she nor Will wanted to move, afraid that the images would disappear.

“We still haven’t figured out how they’re doing this,” Beth said. 

“We have time. I’m sure this is a topic you and I will discuss for years to come.”

“She did love him, you know. She didn’t realize it until after his proposal. Although she couldn’t accept that he didn’t see her as his equal, she finally had to admit to herself how much she cared for him.”

Will nodded, warmed by the realization. “She changed him. He took her words to heart, and started changing how he viewed and treated the teachers and students at the school, and other African-Americans he encountered.”

“I’m glad to hear that,” Beth said. “He changed her, too. She became a suffragette because of him.”

Will smiled. “I know.”

“Okay, time to go,” the security guard announced.

Will finally released Beth, and hand-in-hand, they started walking to the elevators. They looked back once more at Fitz and Eliza, whose images were slowly vanishing. Just before they disappeared, Fitz waved, and Eliza blew them a kiss.

They had given Will and Beth their blessings.

**The End**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is an epilogue, "Christmas Eve Across the Ages," yet to come!


	6. Epilogue: Christmas Eve Across the Ages

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Because I wasn't ready to let these characters go... Darcy and Elizabeth in two generations discover love on Christmas Eve. Also, apologies for the brief discussion of politics and taxes in this story. It's merely a plot device to move our dear couple along to their HEA.

**Christmas Eve Across the Ages**

"That's how we're going to win. Not fighting what we hate. Saving what we love." Rose to Finn, _Star Wars: The Last Jedi_

**December 24, 2017**

At about 8:45 on Sunday morning, Will Darcy, after returning from a workout at the gym, entered his bedroom quietly and sat on the edge of the bed. He knew he should wake up Beth soon, since they were due at Chase's house for brunch at ten, but he wanted a chance to gaze at her. His eyes followed her long eyelashes brushing against her warm brown skin, swept across the lovely curve of her oval-shaped face, and moved down to her full lips that were so delicious to kiss. She was so beautiful!

His heart was so full right now. After meeting Beth last Friday evening, she and he had spent much of the week together when he wasn't working. Over the weekend, he had joined her at her parents' house to help pack and organize boxes. The chore had given them plenty of time to talk about their lives, families, work, and interests, and discover that Friday evening hadn't been a fluke spurred on by supernatural encounters with their distant ancestors. No, they were in fact very compatible, both loving outdoor activities, cuisine of every ethnic stripe, meeting everyday people instead of sightseeing when they traveled, and of course, science fiction. They were able to open up about painful topics such as her parents' illnesses and deaths. He marveled that, despite hiding his father's imprisonment and mother's addiction from virtually everyone except his sister Gia and Chase for so long, he had no fear of entrusting such a vulnerable part of himself to her.

Will also had had a chance to read some of Beth's great-great-great aunt Eliza's journal, and it almost felt like encountering a sacred text. He was now even more convinced that the visitations by Eliza and his great-great grandfather Fitz had happened to bring Beth and him together.

In the evenings, they had had fun together, going out to eat, watching movies, visiting museums, catching up with some of her old friends, and hanging out with Chase and Janet and their kids. But last night was the pinnacle. They had gone out to Samba Bar and Grille in Somerville, which thrilled Beth who loved Brazilian food but lamented the lack of any Brazilian restaurants in Olympia, Washington. Even better, the place offered live music and dancing on the weekends, so they had had a blast.

Afterward, he was overjoyed when she had asked if they could go back to his place. He hadn't wanted to be the one to suggest taking their relationship to the next level, because he didn't want to admit how nervous he was. He had been celibate since his return to the U.S., so afraid he was of encountering someone who might know about his past. He needn't have worried. It had been amazing. _Beth_ was amazing.

Beth stirred and opened her eyes. "Hi there," she said sleepily.

"Hey, you," he smiled back, leaning down to kiss her.

She kissed him back, but when she felt his tongue prodding, she pulled back. "Give me just a few minutes?"

He nodded, and she scampered out of bed to the bathroom. When she returned, he pulled her into his arms and lowered her onto the bed to finish what they had started. A few minutes into passionate foreplay, Beth suddenly stopped and cried out, "Oh, shoot!"

"What's wrong?"

"I left the presents for the kids at my hotel room, and Janet promised them they could open my gifts today. Do you mind if we stop by there on the way?"

"Which means we need to get going, doesn't it?" His disappointment was hard to mask.

"Yeah… I'm sorry. I'll make it up to you later today."

He nodded and kissed her one more time, before rolling away so she could get up and get ready. An idea occurred to him, and he broached it when she returned from showering. "What do you think about checking out of your hotel room and staying with me for the duration of your trip? Then you wouldn't have to run back and forth, and we could spend as much time together as possible before you leave."

She looked surprised, maybe even a bit troubled, but didn't answer right away. "Let me think about it, okay?"

Thinking she would be as excited about the idea as he was, it was his second disappointment of the morning, and he didn't want to feel this way, not after having had such an amazing week. He swallowed his feelings as they prepared to leave, and then again when they arrived at the home of Beth's brother-in-law and Will's best friend Chase to find that breakfast was not yet ready. After giving them a quick greeting, Chase told them he had to run back to the kitchen so nothing burned.

Beth looked at him apologetically. "I guess we could have taken more time."

He squeezed her hand to let her know it was okay, and then released it just in time to catch one of the three Bingham triplets who had bounded down the stairs to greet them.

It was Olivia, of course. The little girl was crazy about him, something that delighted him to no end. "Uncle Will, I have horses!" she shouted as he picked her up.

"Really, sweetie? Where?"

"In my room!"

"Are they big horses or little horses?"

"Big ones!" She stretched out her arms as far as the could go.

"How many are there?"

"Two!" she shouted, holding up three fingers.

"Is that three or two?" he asked.

She looked at her hand with a cute little frown, switching between two and three fingers a few times as she tried to figure it out. Finally, looking at three fingers, she shook her head. "No, I'm this many, so it's this many." Two fingers remained in the air.

"That's right, that's two," Will congratulated her. "Good job making sure you got it right." He asked her to tell her more about her new horse friends, and she happily shared how they had arrived in the middle of the night and saved her from a monster.

He heard scampering feet as Olivia's brothers came downstairs, followed by their mother. Joshua and Nathan used to get jealous at Olivia's monopoly of Will, but since Beth had come home, they decided she would be their new favorite. They plowed into their aunt, wrapping their arms around her legs and almost knocking her over.

"Hey, you two," Janet greeted them. "Sorry we're running behind. All three of the kids had nightmares at different times of the night last night, so guess who didn't get any sleep."

Beth laughed as she teetered back against the wall, one boy on each leg. "And you know they're not going to sleep tonight, either."

"No, I told them they'd better, or Santa wouldn't come. But I still won't sleep much because I'm on call." Janet was a pediatrician at Mass General Hospital.

At the mention of Santa, all three kids' ears perked up. Santa reminded Joshua of presents, and presents reminded him that Beth was bringing some. He started tugging at the bag she was carrying and begging to look inside.

"Only if all three of you go into the living room and sit quietly," Janet told them. "Then Aunt Beth will follow you in and give you your presents."

With the promise of presents in store, the kids were eager to obey their mother. As he lowered Olivia to the ground and watched her go, Will overheard Beth whisper, "I need to talk to you" to her sister.

Janet peeked into the living room and burst out laughing. "They're all sitting on their hands! I guess that's the only way they can stay still, they're so excited. Okay, Beth, you're on. Will, why don't you see if you can help Chase with breakfast?"

He knew it wasn't a suggestion, so he continued down the hallway to the kitchen, finding his friend surrounded by skillets on the stove and scrambling eggs. "How can I help?" he asked.

"You can keep making the waffles." Chase nodded his head to a charcoal gray appliance on the counter.

Will walked over. "How does this work?"

"There's one in there already. It'll beep in a few minutes, and the waffle will be done. Flip it over, lift the handle, and pull the waffle out. Then pour some more batter on it, flip it over again, and do the same thing."

"I could have figured that out myself."

"Hey, you asked!" Chase said. "Plus, you couldn't cook jack back when we lived together. Has that changed?" The two men had been roommates during their last two years of law school.

Will shook his head. "Not really." At that moment, the iron beeped. Following Chase's instructions, Will successfully pulled out the waffle and dropped it on a plate with an Emeril-style _"Bam!"_

"Proud of yourself, are you?" Chase laughed.

"Why shouldn't I be? I just made a waffle."

"Then hurry up and pour some more batter on. You are far from done, my friend." After Will had started the next one cooking, Chase continued. "How are you and Beth doing?"

Seeing the broad smile that spread across Will's face, Chase whooped. "Y'all did the deed, didn't you? My boy! Don't give me any details, though. She's still my sister-in-law."

"Good, because I wasn't going to." Will was still grinning from ear to ear.

"So what happens next?"

"When, later today? I thought you didn't want details."

"No, I mean next week. She's leaving soon, remember?"

Will shrugged. "I don't know. We haven't talked about it yet."

"So this is just a holiday fling?"

Chase's stern expression and tone annoyed Will. "You're not playing protective brother-in-law, are you? Beth doesn't need it."

"Believe it or not, I'm kind of protective of _both_ of you. I remember everything you've been through. I don't want to see either of you get hurt."

Will nodded, his irritation fading. "It's definitely not just a fling. Not to me at least."

"And to her?"

Earlier that morning, Will would have said Beth felt the same way he did. Now he wasn't so certain. Why had she reacted as she had to his request that she stay with him? And what did she want to talk to Janet about? "I'm not sure."

"You two should probably start talking about it then. And that's the last thing I'm going to say on this subject."

Will nodded slowly, feeling a bit frustrated. His "stay with me" request was supposed to have been a prelude to just that, a discussion of what they would do when Beth returned to Washington.

~~%~~

**December 24, 1911**

The Fellowship Hall at the African Meeting House smelled of pine needles, candles, and delicious food as Eliza Bennet entered. A potluck supper had been organized following Christmas Eve services. Folks were already filling up plates and finding places to sit. They would enjoy a wonderful meal, followed by the students' presentation.

Eliza, Lucy, and Annabelle had been working for weeks to prepare the children's choir, and their voices, demonstrated first in church that morning, were angelic. They knew everything had to be perfect for the afternoon's ceremony. Mrs. Darcy, the wife of the founder of the Darcy School and the mother of its current headmaster, was coming this afternoon to present gift baskets for the children, collected by members of her Ladies' Auxiliary. The last thing Eliza wanted was for the Darcys to believe they were anything other than deeply grateful.

She and her fellow teachers were organizing the stage, making sure it was clean and neat for the presentation, when a voice came from behind her. "You're looking fine today, Miss Eliza."

Eliza turned. "Well, I thank you, Mr. Taylor. And Merry Christmas to you."

Solomon Taylor, doffed in a handsome suit and a well-trimmed moustache, was a childhood neighbor who had just returned for Christmas break from his third year of college at Howard University. Since that time, he had sought Eliza out repeatedly. "And to you. I was wondering if you might like to go ice skating tomorrow. They say the Frog Pond will be nice and frozen."

Eliza forced herself not to sigh. "I appreciate the offer, I really do. But you know my daddy. No playing on the Lord's Day."

Solomon smiled. "I believe today is the Lord's Day, so he can have no objection to me taking you out tomorrow."

"Tomorrow is Christmas, the holiest day of the year. In my daddy's eyes, that's the same thing. But I do thank you." She turned to gesture to Lucy. "Lucy is quite the skater. She might be available."

Her friend's eyes grew big as Solomon looked her over. "Perhaps your daddy is right," he said. "Christmas is a holy day, one to be spent with family and the Good Book." He nodded at the three women, and then quickly moved away to the buffet table.

"Eliza!" Lucy cried after he was gone. "Why did you do that? You embarrassed me."

Eliza felt badly for her friend; she hadn't thought Solomon would react like that. "I'm so sorry, Lucy. I know you're sweet on him, and I'm not. I thought that if he just had the chance to get to know you, he'd see what a lovely woman you are and stop trying to court me."

Annabelle laughed. At twenty-seven, she was the oldest teacher at the school since Charlotte had married Billy Collins. Although she was nearly a spinster, she seemed to understand the ways of men, and often gave the younger teachers advice. "It doesn't work like that, Eliza. When a man wants you, he's not likely to give up."

"Billy Collins did," Lucy protested. Indeed, Billy Collins had pursued Eliza for about a month, before marrying their friend Charlotte.

Annabelle harrumphed. "That's because Billy doesn't have the sense God gave him. It's a good thing he now has Charlotte for a wife. Otherwise he wouldn't even know how to put on his pants in the morning." At that image, Annabelle and Eliza laughed.

Instead of joining in their laughter, Lucy looked as if she might cry. Eliza reached out to hug her friend. "If Solomon Taylor can't see what a good woman you are, then he doesn't deserve you." Lucy was plain in looks, but very sweet and kind.

Lucy nodded. "I just wish I was so pretty like you. All the men like you, Eliza. Even Mr. Darcy. He looks at you all the time."

Eliza's eyes widened. "What nonsense is this? Mr. Darcy is only looking at me to find fault. Ever since I came to this school, he has treated me as the worst teacher he's ever had, and argued with every word out of my mouth."

"No, she's right," Annabelle objected. "You don't think we haven't noticed him going by every day to observe your classroom?"

"He observes every teacher's classroom."

"For two or three days, not every day since September!"

Eliza shook her head. "That's because he thinks I'm a terrible teacher! I try my best, and the children are learning, but he still thinks I'm not good enough."

"Eliza Bennet!" Lucy said sternly. "He looks at you like Solomon Taylor looks at you."

Eliza's heart started thumping. She wasn't sure what she was feeling—frightened, perhaps? Or was she excited? "Lucy, he's a white man!" she whispered. "There is no way on God's green earth that Mr. Darcy is looking at a colored woman like that!"

Annabelle shook her head. "Come now, Eliza, you know better. You know how many high yellow folks are running around because some white man looked at a colored woman like that?"

"Both of you, stop now, please!" Eliza shook her head. "It's hard enough being at this school and dealing with his stares without you putting this drivel into my head. Mr. Darcy is our _employer_ , and we owe him the respect not to gossip about him or malign his motives."

"That's sound advice," Annabelle said. "Just… be careful around him, Eliza."

Eliza nodded. Why wouldn't she be? He might mean to alarm her with his critical eye, but her courage always rose with every attempt to intimidate her.

~~%~~

**December 24, 2017**

Her kids now happily playing on the floor with the Fisher Price playsets their aunt had given them, Janet turned to her sister, sitting beside her on the sofa, to find out what was bothering her.

Beth exhaled. "I don't know."

"Everything going okay between you and Will?"

"Yes, that's the strange thing. Everything's going great! We had sex last night for the first time." She whispered the last sentence, mindful of the little ears around her. They didn't seem to be listening, but one never knew what they might pick up.

Janet smiled. "And? How was it?"

Beth had to smile back. "Wonderful. Incredible!"

"So what's wrong?"

"I don't know. This morning, Will asked if I would be willing to stay with him for the rest of my trip. It makes sense, since we want to spend as much time together as possible. But for some reason, I became really afraid and couldn't answer him."

Janet pondered for a moment. "That's not surprising. When Chase and I set you up, we figured you'd like each other, but we didn't expect that things would take off like this so quickly between you."

"Even though you were talking about him flying out to see me before I'd even met him?" Beth grinned.

"See, when I said that, it was a joke! But now it's the real thing. If you two want to continue this, you're going to have a long-distance relationship. That comes with a lot of challenges. Maybe that's what's frightening you."

"Maybe. But I've always loved a challenge, so why would I be afraid of this one? I know I want to be with Will. From the time I first met him, it was as if we'd always known each other. Why am I so hesitant now?"

"First of all," Janet said, "You _don't_ know him. I don't care what it feels like. You've known each other for all of _nine days_ , Beth! He's had a lifetime of experiences you know nothing about, and thousands of thoughts and feelings and ideas he's never shared with you. After five years, Chase and I are still learning about each other, and probably will for the rest of our lives." She grinned. "And that's a good thing! Discovering each other is part of the fun."

"Okay," Beth nodded. "I get what you're saying."

Janet's eyes lit up. "Oh, you know what might be going on?"

"What?"

"You being so dang independent, girl!" Janet tapped her sister on the knee.

Beth frowned. "So what? Since when is that a bad thing? It doesn't mean I don't want a relationship."

"Yeah, but the guys you've been with in the past, you didn't need them. From what I can see, you need Will."

"No, I don't!" Beth protested. "I may _want_ him in my life, but that's different."

"I don't mean need him like you can't live without him, or you need him to fix you in some way. It's more like… how do I describe it?" Janet thought about it for a moment. "Okay, it's like this. I need Chase. Not because I can't survive without him, although to be honest, it would be very hard on my own with the three kids. But I need the _joy_ he brings me. I need his friendship. I need the partnership we have, how we help each other grow. He helps make me whole. Am I making sense?"

Beth nodded.

"And I think"—Janet wagged her finger at her sister—"you're starting to need these same things from Will, and it scares you because you've never felt this way before, and it's making you feel very vulnerable. You like being strong, so you don't do vulnerable very well."

Beth twisted her mouth, and then smiled. "My wise sister. You know me so well."

Janet grinned mischievously. "Or to put it another way, you're in love with him."

Beth's eyes flashed, making Janet laugh. "I knew it! You two are so disgustingly cute, I knew that if you weren't already in love, you would be soon!"

"You know what they say about payback. I've had to put up with you and Chase being disgustingly cute all these years."

Janet smirked. "Well, I'm thrilled. So have you told him yet?"

"Not in those words exactly."

"Girl, you need to tell him! Just like you still have a lot to learn about each other, you definitely can't read each other's minds."

Beth reached over and hugged her sister. "Thank you. See, this is why I need _you!"_

They both laughed, and then looked up to see a pouty Nathan in front of them. "How come she gets a hug and I don't?"

"Well, come on up here if you want one!" Janet told him. In seconds, all three children were up on laps and squeezing their mother and aunt.

~~%~~

**December 24, 1911**

After assuring that his man Thomas had safely loaded all the gift baskets in the wagon for transport, Fitzwilliam Darcy helped his mother into their Model T to make the short drive to the African Meeting House. She had balked at the idea of going to a place with such a name, wondering if it were festooned with artifacts from the Dark Continent.

"It's a church, Mother," he had assured her. "It looks little different than most white churches, although much plainer."

"I just don't see why we can't meet at the school!"

"The children have prepared a program for us. They needed a stage, which the school lacks and the church does not."

Mother sniffed, but seemed to accept his explanation.

They arrived and entered, to much welcome by the people gathered there. "I'd like to introduce you to my teachers, Mother. They especially wanted to express their gratitude for your generosity."

"As indeed they should," Mother replied.

As they approached the group of young women near the Fellowship Hall's stage, Annabelle, his most experienced teacher, spoke first. "Good afternoon, Headmaster Darcy. We're very honored to have you here today."

"Good afternoon, Annabelle. Mother, this is Miss Annabelle Jackson. She teaches the children who are ages eleven to thirteen. Annabelle, my mother, Mrs. Catherine Darcy."

Annabelle gave a small curtsey. "A pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Darcy."

"And this is Miss Lucy Smith, who teaches our eight to ten-year olds."

"Ma'am," Lucy said, also curtseying.

"And finally, this is Miss Eliza Bennet, who teaches our youngest children, ages five to seven. Since the departure of Miss Charlotte Lucas, who taught the other class of little ones and married last month, she has absorbed the additional students and now manages the largest classroom in the school. It was also her idea to offer the children's choir program today."

Fitz bit his tongue. Why had he shared these extra bits of information? Although he was quite proud of Eliza, he certainly hadn't wanted to make his admiration so obvious. Now the young woman had attracted his mother's curiosity.

"Your idea?" his mother said, peering closely at Eliza. "What brought that to your mind?"

"I'm new to the school this year, ma'am. I learned that for many years, you and your Ladies' Auxiliary have provided generous gifts to the children at Christmastime. I thought it might be nice to give you something in return, to thank you."

"And you think that colored children have something to offer me, besides their gratitude?"

"Oh, yes, ma'am! They're quite talented and very excited about singing for you today."

"We shall see. Where were you educated, young lady?"

"At Daytona Educational and Industrial Training School in Florida, ma'am."

"Is that one of those Negro schools?"

"Indeed it is." Eliza's eyes twinkled. "I could hardly attend Radcliffe, now, could I?"

"I should say not!" Mother looked quite offended. "What would a Negro woman do in a place meant to develop the jewels of white womanhood?"

Fitz wondered for a moment what might happen if he were to inform them that at least one Negro woman had already graduated from Radcliffe. Most colored women would not have the intellect to succeed at such a place, but he imagined that a few shining stars existed in every race. Eliza, he felt certain, was one of them.

Eliza seemed to relish sparring with his mother, but the other teachers appeared to have become quite uncomfortable with the conversation. "Headmaster Darcy, Mrs. Darcy, we have provided some chairs for you upfront as our guests of honor today," Annabelle said quickly.

As he led his mother to their seats, she remarked, "That young woman gives her opinion very decidedly for one of her race and station."

Fitz didn't answer, fearing that anything he said might give away his feelings for Eliza. He resolved to be particularly careful that no further sign of admiration should now escape him. He really believed that, were it not for the inferiority of her skin color, he should be in great danger.

~~%~~

**December 24, 2017**

By 1 PM, everyone had eaten their fill and had settled into the living room, where the children were once more playing on the floor. Chase had turned on the TV to watch the Patriots-Bills game. "Have you been following the Pats this season?" he asked his sister-in-law.

"Not really," Beth replied. "I'm in Seahawks country now."

Chase's jaw dropped in feigned horror. "Why, you two-faced, fair-weather, double-crossing _traitor!_ How could you?"

Will laughed. "Tell us how you really feel, Chase."

"I know you're not going to let her get away with this. You're still a Pats' fan, right?"

"Actually…" Will said sheepishly, "I started following soccer when I lived in Europe."

Chase groaned. "Not you, too! Leave my house right now, both of you! Out! OUT!"

Everyone laughed, and then Will said, "Honestly, since I learned about CTE, I'm glad that I stopped watching American football."

"Don't give me that. You're just trying to make an excuse for your defection."

"No excuses," Will answered, a bit more seriously. "I mean, did you _read_ about Aaron Hernandez's autopsy? They said his brain looked like that of a 90-year-old with severe Alzheimer's." He turned to Janet. "Knowing what we now know, would you want Joshua or Nathan to grow up to play football?"

"Probably not," Janet admitted. "I still can't give up my Pats, though. Especially because of Tom Brady. He's my heart." She patted her hand on her chest in fake palpitations.

"I thought I was your heart," Chase said with a pout.

"You are, baby, but come on. This is Tom Brady we're talking about. Right, Beth?"

Instead of backing her up, Beth scoffed. "Tom Brady _who?_ I'll take Russell Wilson or Richard Sherman over him any day of the week!"

"Those are some _beautiful_ men!" Janet agreed.

"Aww, why would you do that, Beth?" Chase moaned. "Now I have to either put up with my wife mooning over Tom Brady, or praising Seahawks!"

Beth just laughed, while Will took a deep breath, trying not to feel weird about the exchange that had just taken place. He couldn't fail to notice that as far as looks go, he had a lot more in common with Tom Brady than with Russell Wilson or Richard Sherman. _Get a grip_ , he told himself. Jealousy was an unattractive trait. If Chase could joke around with Janet like this without feeling threatened, then he could do the same, right?

An hour later he was having a good time and laughing at himself for his hypocrisy and insecurity. He was enjoying the game and remembering how much he used to love American football. Plus, he was in an enviable spot, with Beth cuddled up against him on his left side, and Olivia on his right.

A while later, during a commercial break, a newscaster announced, "Coming up at 6: highlights of today's Patriots' game, a fire leaves a family homeless, and a white Christmas in the weather forecast! Also, what the GOP tax cuts mean for you and your family."

"Ugh," Janet said about the last item. "I can't believe that actually went through."

"Why?" Will asked. "Aren't you going to get a tax cut?"

"That depends," Chase answered. "They say it might hit people who own houses in high property tax states like Massachusetts pretty hard."

"Plus, it's not just whether it affects them _personally,"_ said Beth. "There's a lot to dislike about this bill, and how it's going to affect the country overall."

"I disagree," Will argued. "I spent the last six years paying U.S. taxes on all my income even though I didn't even live in this country. The new tax law is supposed to change that."

Beth sat up, animated. "You still owned property in the United States when you lived overseas, right? You still had investments here, correct? So why shouldn't you have been paying taxes here?"

"Yeah, on the income I earned _here_. Why should I have been paying taxes on the money I earned in Belgium?"

"Look, I'm not going to debate the specific facets right now, because that's not the point I'm trying to make. The point is, you shouldn't just be looking at this based on how it will affect you personally, rather than overall."

"So I should be looking at it based on how it affects _you_ instead."

Beth's face went blank. "That wasn't what I meant, but I thought you'd know that." She sat back against the sofa, away from him, crossing her arms in front of her.

"Baby, it's past the kids' naptime. Let's take them upstairs," Janet said quietly. Olivia was now asleep against Will, Joshua likewise on the floor, and only Nathan remained playing. Chase stood and picked up the two boys, and Janet reached for Olivia.

~~%~~

**December 24, 1911**

The children sang beautifully, performing renditions of "O Come, All Ye Faithful," "Hark, the Herald Angels Sing," and "God Rest Ye Merry, Gentlemen." The final song, "The First Noel," was to begin with a solo performance by 6-year-old Matthew Jefferson, one of the students in Eliza's class. Although he was one of her most mischievous students, the young boy had a celestial voice. Selecting him for this solo was one way that Eliza was trying to encourage him to channel his energies in positive directions.

The room was silent as Matthew's clear sweet voice rang out. By the time the other children joined him in singing the chorus, Eliza's heart had swelled with pride. When they finished, the congregants and parents gave them a standing ovation. Even Mrs. Darcy was standing! Eliza could see the joy on Matthew's face, knowing he had accomplished something special. She was so happy for him, finally understanding that he was more than "that naughty Matthew," as the other teachers often called him.

In the minutes that followed, as the children were embraced by their families, Mr. Darcy and his mother approached her. "That was indeed a pleasure," said Mrs. Darcy. "There are few people in Boston, I suppose, who have more true enjoyment of music than myself, or a better natural taste. If I had ever learned to sing, I should have been a great proficient."

"Thank you very much, ma'am," Eliza smiled. "I'm glad you enjoyed it."

"Mother," Mr. Darcy said, "I need to speak with Eliza for a moment. Will you please excuse us?"

"Yes, of course. You must extend your congratulations to your best teacher!"

Eliza blushed at the praise as Mr. Darcy led her aside to a corner of the room. She was therefore astounded to see the angry look on his face. "Mr. Darcy, is something the matter?"

"How could you," he said, his voice sharp, "allow Matthew Jefferson to perform that solo?"

"He has the best voice, sir. You heard him! He was lovely!"

"And he is also a child who is currently on punishment for bringing a frog to school and dropping it down a girl's dress!"

"Sir, that was weeks ago, and school is no longer in session!"

"But you have been practicing for this performance for weeks, when school was still in session. When did you select Matthew for this piece?"

Eliza looked down, knowing Mr. Darcy wouldn't be happy with her answer. "A few days into the rehearsals, sir. We had the children audition."

"So you rewarded a wrong-doer with the leading role in a performance meant to honor my mother? How could you, Eliza?"

Eliza swallowed hard. It was as she had known and told Lucy and Annabelle. Mr. Darcy looked at her for no other reason than to find fault.

Regardless of Mr. Darcy's dislike of her, she knew it was incumbent upon her to defend Matthew and her decision. Gathering her courage, she looked him in the eye. "Mr. Darcy, it is Christmas. A time when we honor the Savior who came here for all of us wrong-doers! If Christmastime doesn't remind you that we have all received forgiveness and undeserved second chances, then how dare you call yourself a Christian!"

Eliza gasped and covered her mouth. Had she really just said such a disrespectful thing to her employer? He would fire her for certain, so she knew she should do the righteous thing and quit. "I'm so sorry, sir," she said quickly. "I should never have said such a thing. Please forgive me. I will clear out my classroom first thing after the holidays."

Mr. Darcy gave no reply. Instead, he stared at her, his face pale and his expression troubled. He peered at her with a gentleness and sadness that pierced her heart. Standing so close to him, Eliza noticed his eyes for the first time. They were brown, the brown of coffee with just a touch of cream, and like coffee, were deep pools of richness and warmth. _His eyes are beautiful_ , Eliza thought, and then blushed that she should be thinking such a thing.

"Eliza, please don't do that," he said softly. "My mother was right, you _are_ my best teacher, and I would never want to lose you. And you are right. My attitude toward Matthew was very un-Christian. I hope that in the New Year, I can learn to do better in adopting some of your perspective about the children's potential."

He turned and walked away, leaving Eliza shaken and overwhelmed. She still had a job, thank goodness. Even more, she now knew that she worked for a very good man. One who would accept reproof from a woman, and a Negro woman at that, was a man with true goodness in his heart. She wondered briefly what it might be like if Lucy were right about Mr. Darcy fancying her. She shook her head. That would never be possible.

She watched him now from across the room, greeting parents, congratulating children, and even giving young Matthew a handshake. _Merry Christmas, Mr. Darcy_ , she thought.

~~%~~

**December 24, 2017**

Will could feel the chilly silence in the room after Chase and Janet left, despite the sounds of the game in the background. His emotions were all over the place. He felt embarrassed by his argument with Beth, confused about why it had even happened, and even jealous, as he recalled Beth's Tom Brady remark like a punch to his gut.

They sat there for a few minutes, until Will couldn't take it any longer and had to break the tension. "Beth, how did we get here, from this morning until now?"

"Because we don't know each other," she said quietly, the hurt evident in her voice.

"I thought we did. Or were getting there, at least. Can we not disagree about something like taxes, or did that become a deal-breaker somehow?"

"It's not that," she said.

"Then what is it?"

She looked up at him for the first time in several minutes. "They'll be coming down again soon, and I know Chase still wants to watch the game. Can we go to the kitchen?"

They rose and walked to the kitchen, which had a breakfast nook that overlooked a wide backyard where snow now covered the toddler-sized jungle gym playset. Will and Beth sat down on the only two chairs at the table—the other spots taken up by three highchairs.

Beth rubbed her hands as they rested in her lap. He waited, and when she didn't speak, he decided to voice his fear. "Is this because I don't look like Russell Wilson or Richard Sherman?"

Her eyes widened. "What? No! Oh, Will, no, please don't think that!" She reached over and took his hand. "Just because I prefer them over Tom Brady doesn't mean that you're not the sexiest man I know."

"Sexier than Russell Wilson?" he asked, just to make sure he understood her correctly.

Her eyes lit up. "Oh, hell yes!" She leaned over and gave him a long kiss to show him just how much.

When they finally pulled back, both smiling, Beth said, "But…"

"I knew there was a but," he said, trying not to tense up again.

Beth squeezed his hand. "Let's talk."

~~%~~

**From the journal of Fitzwilliam Darcy, April 9, 1914**

_"Eliza Bennet came to see me today. Until I saw her face, I had not thought that she could still hold such power over my heart, especially since my marriage to Sarah. I remembered the moment on that Christmas Eve some years ago when I first realized that my feelings for Eliza were not just fascination, but love. Today Eliza was everything gracious, congratulating me on my nuptials and wishing us happiness. I was not surprised to learn that since leaving my school, she had become a suffragette. A woman with her fire and passion would certainly be at the forefront of striving to help women obtain the right to vote._

_"As I think back on her visit, I cannot help but be filled with remorse at my unkind words to her—'atrocious,' she called them, with that same twinkle in her eye that always delighted me—and anger at a society that declares that Negro and white can never be together. And yet, our fates have already been cast. I can only do as Scripture exhorts us, 'forgetting those things which are behind, and reaching forth unto those things which are before.' I must leave behind the 'what ifs' with Eliza, and devote myself to Sarah, to the children we might one day have, and the children of the Darcy School. I am grateful to Miss Bennet, for I am a better man for having known her. Perhaps someday, I might teach these lessons to my son, or to those that come after, that they might live their lives without regret."_

~~%~~

**December 24, 2017**

Looking at the frown on Will's face, Beth wanted to make him smile. "The dreaded words," she said.

"What?"

 _"Let's talk_. The ones no guy wants to hear from his girlfriend, right?"

It worked. The corners of Will's mouth turned up. "At least you still think of yourself as my girlfriend."

Beth smiled. "I do. Anyway, Janet and I had a very good talk this morning, and she said two things that really stuck with me. First, that no matter how much it felt like we had some immediate connection, we don't really know each other. And second, that I'm scared right now because my feelings for you are making me feel very vulnerable. She's right on both counts."

"Okay."

"When we were arguing about the tax bill, I realized that both of those things were impacting me at that moment."

"How so?"

"It's hard enough for me to let someone in like this, and even harder when they can't see the world from another perspective. You and I share a lot of similar interests, but have very different backgrounds, and probably very different points of view."

Will exhaled in frustration. "Beth, are you saying that somehow we can't see eye to eye because I'm white and you're African-American? It doesn't matter to me! And I had thought it didn't matter to you."

"It doesn't… and it does."

"You're going to have to explain that to me."

Beth rolled her fingers back and forth between Will's. Her fear was now back, and she now recognized the reason for it. Would he understand? "When it's you and me together, it's just you and me, and our different races or backgrounds don't matter. But it's not always just you and me. In fact, most of the time it won't be. Who we are doesn't exist in a vacuum."

"Are you worried about what other people will think about us?"

She shook her head. "No, I don't care. But it is important to me that you see things from other perspectives. It's something I try to teach my students."

"And this has to do with taxes, how exactly?"

"It doesn't. It came up because you were thinking about how the bill affected _you_ , and my hope is that you'll think about how it affects other people, too. But that's true of any issue."

"Otherwise, I'm not a 'woke' enough white guy, is that it?"

Beth's face flashed with pain, and suddenly Will stopped. He had seen that expression before, for a brief moment when he met Eliza. He had apologized for hurting her, not even knowing why, and later he read in Fitz's journal that Fitz had made the same apology. It was as if at that instant, with Eliza in front of him, Fitz's mind and heart had merged with Will's.

It was happening again. Fitz's regret, the realization that he had hurt the woman he loved and lost her because of it, washed over him. He recalled Beth musing that Fitz probably didn't even understand how bigoted his attitudes were, and realized that he might be in danger of having the same problem. Will knew suddenly that his ancestor was prodding him, reminding him of his own mistakes and urging him not to repeat them.

He pulled her hands to his lips and kissed them. "I'm sorry, Beth. That was a stupid, _stupid_ thing to say. It was me being defensive and insecure, and I think you're saying I don't need to be. I just need to listen and try to understand."

Beth nodded. "Yes, that's what I'm saying. We can still disagree, but I hope it comes from a place of understanding other points of view."

"Okay, I _hear_ you. And if I ever forget, give me a swift kick in the pants."

Beth smiled as a thought came to her, a quote from the movie _The Last Jedi_ , which Will and she had watched the previous weekend. It was about not fighting what you hate, but saving what you love. She loved Will, and he— _they_ —were worth fighting for. "So maybe we should talk about what we're going to do after I go back home."

Will smiled. "I've been thinking about that, and I have some ideas. May I share them?"

"Be my guest."

"I think I should start preparing to move to Olympia."

Beth's mouth dropped. "You mean that?"

"I do. I'm going to miss you like crazy after you leave, so I know I need to do something about it. It makes sense for me to move, because I just came back to Boston not long ago. You're the one with the established career and home and friends."

"That's a big change, though!" Beth said. "What if things don't work out between us? I mean, I want it to! But what if you uproot your life and it doesn't?"

"I won't move right away. I'm thinking in about four to five months. That'll give me time to close out my cases and shut down my law practice, and to visit you a few times on your home turf. I think we'll know by then whether it's going to work or not."

"Wow," Beth said, overwhelmed.

"And Beth," Will leaned closer, "In the interim, I'm going to try to figure out a way to build a life for myself out there."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, I'm going to look for a job. I'm not going to do the solo practice anymore. I'll probably also look for some volunteer groups I can join, maybe doing legal aid. I need to be around _people_. It's like you told me, I need to start really living, and not be afraid any longer of what might happen if people know I'm George Wickham's son."

"I'm glad," Beth said. "You know I really want that for you."

"It's for you, too," he added. "It wouldn't be fair to you for me to go out there and have you be my whole life, without having something to offer you in return."

Beth grinned. "So you don't want to hide away in my apartment and be my sexy boy toy?"

Will laughed. "I'd happily be your sexy boy toy, but you deserve more than that."

"Yeah, I'd probably get bored if that's all you were to me."

"I figured as much. So what do you think?"

"I think…" Beth exhaled, still a bit dazed by his offer, and the thoughtfulness he had put into it. "No, I _know_. I love you, Will, and can't wait to see this plan unfold."

Will's face lit up in an enormous smile. "And I'm madly in love with you!" He pulled her into a warm embrace and deep, passionate kiss.

They broke away when they heard loud, excited screams and shouts from the living room.

"The Patriots must have won," said Beth. "A early Christmas present for Chase."

Will nodded. "Yes, but I got the best Christmas gift of all."

**THE END**

~~%~~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed my story! I would love to read your comments!
> 
>  
> 
> **Story references:**
> 
> \- Massachusetts has the largest Brazilian population of any state in the U.S., and Brazilian restaurants are very popular there. In contrast, there are only 4 Brazilian restaurants in all of Washington state.
> 
> \- Originally a watering hole for cows, Frog Pond on the Boston Common was revamped by the city in the 1850s for recreational use. To this day, it is a public wading/spray pool in the summer, and an ice skating rink in the winter.
> 
> \- The African Meeting House in downtown Boston was built in 1806 and is the oldest still-standing black church building in the United States.
> 
> \- "High yellow," the term Annabelle uses, was a colloquial expression at the time referring to mixed race African-Americans.
> 
> \- Daytona Educational and Industrial Training School, founded in 1904, is one of the HBCUs (historically black colleges and universities). It was later renamed Bethune-Cookman College (now University), and still exists to this day. Howard University, where Eliza's unwanted suitor Solomon attends, is also an HBCU, located in Washington, DC.
> 
> \- The first African-American woman to attend Radcliffe College (Harvard University's former sister school) was Alberta Virginia Scott, who graduated in 1898.
> 
> \- On December 24, 2017, the New England Patriots beat the Buffalo Bills, 37-16. The Seattle Seahawks also won their game against the Dallas Cowboys, 21-12.
> 
> \- I can't post photos here, but if you haven't seen pictures of the three football players referenced, Tom Brady of the New England Patriots, Russell Wilson of the Seattle Seahawks, and Richard Sherman of the Seattle Seahawks, then let's just say I'd highly recommend it!
> 
> \- CTE stands for Chronic Traumatic Encephalopathy, a neurodegenerative disease affecting people with multiple head injuries, such as athletes who play contact sports. CTE often leads to behavioral problems, aggression, depression, and dementia. The discovery of CTE and its impact on American football players were dramatized in the movie _Concussion_ , starring Will Smith and Gugu Mbatha-Raw.
> 
> \- Aaron Hernandez is a former player with the New England Patriots. In 2015, he was sentenced to life in prison for the murder of another football player, and he was later charged but acquitted for two other murders. He committed suicide in 2017. Following an autopsy, he was diagnosed with CTE.
> 
> \- The GOP stands for Grand Old Party, a nickname for the Republican party. I'm not going to say anything else about the recently passed GOP tax bill, because it's the Christmas season.


	7. Epilogue 2 (because I just can't let these characters go)

**December 24, 2017**

Beth and Will rejoined Chase and Janet in the living room, and when their celebration finally settled down, Chase asked, “You two doing okay?”

Will placed his arm around Beth’s shoulder and she snuggled against him. “We’re doing great,” she said.

“And we have news for you,” Will added.

Chase and Janet exchanged amused glances. “Don’t hold back,” Janet said. “What is it?”

“I’m going to be moving to Olympia,” said Will.

“Wow! That was fast.” Janet started chuckling.

“Not right away, in about four or five months,” he added.

“We know we want to be together,” Beth chimed in, “so we’re going to make it happen.”

“I just got my boy back, and you’re going to take him away from me again.” Chase did his fake pout face again.

“Sorry…” Beth didn’t look sorry in the least.

“I’m not.” Will said firmly. “She’s _much_ prettier than you are, Chase.”

Chase laughed. “Understood. I can deal with it, but realize this: Olivia will _never_ forgive you.”

“I know,” Beth said sadly. “Poor baby.”

“You really do feel like this is meant to be, huh?” Janet said.

Will glanced at Beth. “Can we tell them? Some of it, at least?”

She nodded, so he began. “You want to hear something really wild? Chase, remember when I told you about my great-great-grandfather’s journal, and the school where he was headmaster?”

“I remember. He had a lot of racist attitudes toward the kids, right?”

Will winced. “Yeah, he did.”

“But,” Beth broke in, “he changed over time. And one big reason for that is because one of our ancestors, Janet, used to work for him.”

“Are you serious? Which one?”

“Remember the distant aunt who was a suffragette who Dad used to tell us about? The one who was also named Elizabeth Bennet?”

Janet laughed. “I do! Dad used to say that she must have passed her spirit down to you! So she worked for Will’s great-grandfather?”

“Yes, can you believe that?”

“What’s more,” Will added, “he fell in love with her and proposed to her.”

“Are you kidding me?” Janet gaped.

“Holy cow,” Chase whistled. “Back in 1900?!”

“Close, 1912. Of course, they never married. The barriers between them were too great. But knowing her and loving her did change him for the better.”

“Wait, wasn’t his name the same as yours?” Chase asked.

“Almost. It was Fitzwilliam Darcy.”

Chase looked at his sister-in-law. “And the woman was also an Elizabeth Bennet. This is deep, y’all.”

“Yes, it is!” Janet agreed. “Two ancestors with names almost the same as yours fell in love more than a century ago? That’s unbelievable! No wonder you feel destined for each other.”

Chase held up a finger. “But, but, but! Don’t let this fool you into thinking you don’t have to do the work to make your relationship work.”

“We know,” Will said, hugging Beth against him. “Believe me, we know.”

~~%~~

Some of that work would start that same day. Later that night, after some very satisfying love-making, Beth mentioned that she was hungry. Will led her to his kitchen and handed her some delivery menus. 

“This is great,” she said, “but what do you have to eat right now?” She opened up his refrigerator to look and started laughing. There was nothing in it but a half-empty bottle of orange juice, some cream cheese, and a few beers. “You have nothing to eat in here!”

“That’s because I usually eat out or order in.”

“You don’t like cooking for one?” she asked.

Will shrugged. “I can’t really cook.”

Beth looked incredulous. “You can’t cook? Aren’t you 31 years old?”

He sighed. “Yeah, I know.”

She started laughing. “That’s _really_ pathetic.”

“Go ahead, make fun of me,” Will protested, but he couldn’t hide his smile.

“Okay, I have a challenge for you.” Beth walked over to where Will was seated on a kitchen stool, and placed her arms around his neck. She kissed him deeply as he pulled her against him, running his hands down her back and cupping her butt. Even after a couple of hours in bed, she was deeply turned on again. Will was gorgeous, sexy, and a considerate and passionate lover. 

“I’m ready for your challenge,” he murmured in her ear.

She grinned. “Are you sure? Because it’s not about sex.”

“All this was just a pretense?” he smiled wryly.

“No… just warming you up for it. When you come to live with me, I’ll cook some days, but I’m not going to cook every day. We’ll be partners and I won’t be your handmaid. And, I think it’s a waste of money to have every meal be takeout. That means that you have to learn to cook.” She pursed her lips as she thought about it. “By the time you come out there, I want you to know how to make three breakfast dishes, and three dinner entrees.”

“How am I supposed to do that in a few months?”

She laughed. “It’s not that hard. There are cookbooks, and you can Google recipes. You’re a smart man. You can figure it out.”

Will pulled her closer to suckle her lips. “Will I get more of this if I do?”

“Oh yes,” Beth managed to breath between kisses.

“Then challenge accepted.”

They finally broke apart when both their stomachs growled. Brunch at Chase’s had been hours ago, and all they’d had since then were snacks. After reviewing Will’s menus, they ordered two bowls of chicken _pho_ and spring rolls from a Dorchester Vietnamese restaurant, to be delivered by Uber Eats. 

While waiting for the delivery, Will said, “Tell me what you teach your students.” 

Beth started to name some of her courses, but he stopped her. “No, I don’t mean subjects. I’m wondering what you meant earlier today about the things you want them to learn.” Fitz’s prodding was still in his consciousness, and he didn’t want to miss some important lesson. 

Beth was quiet for a moment. Finally, she said, “Well, you know that I teach African-American History at a predominantly white university. That means that a majority of my students are white. At the beginning of the year, they come into my class, and many of them think that they know all the answers already and their point of view and understanding of the world is the correct one.”

“That’s just the arrogance of being an 18-year-old college student,” Will pointed out.

“It is,” Beth acknowledged, “but that doesn’t make it any easier when their ideas about the world are challenged. A lot of this country’s history is ugly, and the truth is often contrary to the American _mythos_ that most of us learned in school. So when confronted with new information, a lot of student _hate_ it.”

Will nodded, so she went on with her story. “About half way through the course, they tend to fall into one of three categories. First, the ones who get defensive and reject any concepts I’m trying to teach. It’s a flight or fight response. They either want to say that the things I am teaching are untrue, or weren’t that bad, or the toddler response, ‘What about what all those other people did?’” 

Will frowned. “I think I’m feeling some of that defensiveness myself,” he admitted.

Beth took his hand. “Can you tell me why? Is there something I said that made you feel this way?”

“No,” he shook his head. “It’s nothing you said really. It’s just that, for all their faults, my parents did try to teach Gia and me that racism was wrong, that we shouldn’t judge people based on their skin color.” He grimaced. “Of course, for my mom, that meant that she’d accept you if you had the right educational pedigree, and for my dad, he’d accept you as long as you could help him make money.”

He clasped his free hand around their enjoined ones. “But I’ve tried to do better, and I’m afraid that you’re going to tell me that that’s not good enough.”

“You may be feeling some of what the students who fall into category two feel. They come to me during office hours, and say things like, ‘I’m scum, all white people are scum, and we’re nothing but the world’s oppressors who don’t deserve to live.’”

“Ouch.” Will flinched.

“Yeah, that’s not a good place to be. You can see why, when faced with a choice between fight or flight or thinking they’re scum, a lot of them choose the former.”

“You said there were three categories. I assume the third one is the good one?”

Beth nodded. “Where some of them end up, and where I try to help all my students arrive, is a place where they can be honest about our history, even at its ugliest, where they are open to listening to and respecting the voice of others, especially those who are marginalized, and where they recognize their own and others’ humanity. Do you understand what I’m saying? Will, I don’t want my students to think they’re supposed to be the dominant ones, or oblivious to their privilege, but I also don’t want them to think that they’re scum. I just want them to be human, and go out and make a difference because of it.”

“So there’s hope for me?”

She smiled. “Of course there is. You’re a very good man, Will. For what it’s worth, I already think you’re mostly in category 3.”

“Mostly?”

“Other points of view,” she reminded him, and he nodded.

“But please don’t think it’s just you, or just people who are white,” she added. “It applies to all of us. For example, I don’t know what it’s like to be Latino, or Native, or an immigrant, or LGBT. I have a lot of listening and learning to do, too.” Beth thought about the _Last Jedi_ quote again. “Can I ask you a question, and then give you an example?”

He nodded, and she asked, “How many victims did your father have?”

Will pulled his hand from hers and sat back. “I’ve entrusted very few people with my father’s story. Please don’t use it against me,” he said stiffly.

She reached for his hand again. “I wouldn’t ask this to hurt you. I promise you.”

Will looked at her gentle dark eyes and softened. “I know. It’s just hard to get over that fear. And, uh, almost 5,000.”

Beth paused, a little shocked. She knew it had been a lot, but hadn’t imagined how many. “And how much money did he defraud them of?”

Will winced at the shame of having to say it out loud. “About 65 billion.” This is what he had been running from and hiding from for the last nine years—the profundity of what his father had done. But he would try to be in Beth’s category 3, and honestly admit it. “This was what I was trying to make up for.”

“Again, not your job. Plus, you’d never be able to make up for all that.”

“So what should I do about it?”

“You know about Chase’s dad, right?”

Will nodded.

“He was arrested for possession with intent to distribute. Because he had a gun on him at the time, he got the maximum penalty, twenty-five years.”

“Same as my dad,” Will said quietly.

Beth nodded. “How much money do you think Chase’s dad got from selling drugs? How many lives did he affect?”

Will didn’t know, but imagined that the answers were tens of thousands of dollars, and dozens of lives. Maybe hundreds of thousands, and hundreds. Still, a far cry from the damage his father had done.

Seeing that he understood her point, Beth added, “Our society has decided that those two crimes are worth the _same_ punishment, even though one has obviously caused much more harm. Furthermore, it has decided, and there are tons of statistics to back this up, that black men like Chase’s dad should be punished far more harshly than a white person who had committed the exact same crime.”

“What do you want me to do, Beth?” he said softly.

“Just be aware, that’s all.”

“Somehow, that doesn’t seem like enough.” 

“Oftentimes, if you know better, you can do better.”

Suddenly Will felt it again. _Prodding_. A recent memory came to him, Chase that morning telling him that his mom, Bernadette, was excited Will was coming over for Christmas dinner the next day. “She says she misses her other son, and was wondering why you hadn’t been by to see her.”

Why hadn’t he gone by to visit Bernadette? He didn’t know, other than to recall how used to isolation and self-protection he had become in Europe, a mindset that wasn’t easy to step out of. “Did Chase ever tell you how we became friends?”

Beth shook her head.

“I got really wasted at a party the day my dad was arrested, and somehow told Chase about it. I barely remembered it the next morning, when I woke up on Chase’s sofa with a massive hangover and no idea how I had gotten there. He told me I was going to try to drive home the night before, and he had taken my keys away. I asked him if he was gay.”

Beth laughed. “Why’d you ask that?”

“Because I couldn’t figure out why this guy would be so nice to me unless he wanted to sleep with me. That’s how screwed up I was at the time. I didn’t believe that people did things for other people just out of kindness. Anyway, he was being Chase, you know, joking around, telling me I wasn’t his type, and threatening to kill me if I puked on his furniture.” Will chuckled at the memory. “Then he stopped joking and said, ‘I’ve been in your shoes. I thought you might need a friend.’”

Beth smiled. “Chase is a really good guy.”

“He is,” Will nodded. “Long story short, when I couldn’t afford my apartment anymore, Chase let me move in with him. He came with me to my dad’s trial. He took me to his mom’s house in Mattapan on the weekends sometimes, at a time when my mom was a mess, and I really needed someone like Bernadette to love up on me. She used to call me her other son. They did all this for me, and I never really thought about what they might need. And this morning, Chase told me Bernadette misses me. I haven’t been by to see her since I came back.”

Beth rubbed his back. “It seems like you have a chance to do better tomorrow.”

Will cleared his throat and looked at her. “I do, don’t I?” He squeezed her hand. “Can we keep talking about this stuff? I like it, even though it hurts.”

She looked at him gently. “Yes, we can. Just warning you, though, I can get academic and jargon-y at times. Let me know if I do.”

Will smiled and leaned over to kiss her. “I will.”

~~%~~

**Labor Day weekend, 2018**

The holiday weekend coincided with Beth’s 30th birthday, and she and Will had spent the day paddle-boarding and surrey biking at Point Ruston. Now they sat at an outdoor table at the Wild Fin Restaurant, dining on the delectable salmon that the region was known for and enjoying a gorgeous view of the Puget Sound. Will thought about how much this place had come to feel like home, nestled in between the Olympic Mountains to the west and the Cascades to the east, and reigned over by a glorious queen, the brilliant white prominence of Mt. Rainier. _“Ta-koma,”_ the native Salishan and Puyallup peoples had called it (and from which the nearby city took its name), translated as “mother of waters” or “tall mountain,” neither of which did the peak justice but were certainly more fitting than the English name Rainier. 

When Will had moved to Olympia in April, the skies were rainy and gray, as was typical for much of the year in Western Washington. Then one day, the sun came out, and with it, so did “the Mountain,” as the locals called it. Will was stunned to witness the sight, wondering how he could have missed something so majestic that had been there all along. Of course, it was also an active volcano that was overdue for an eruption, but he tried not to think about that too much.

He gazed across the table at his girlfriend. No matter how beautiful the area was, it paled in comparison to the woman sitting across from him. It was Beth, being with her and loving her, that had made this his home. 

He was listening as Beth spoke about her plans for her fall quarter classes that were soon to begin, and thinking about how much he had learned from her in the last year. He had used much of his new understanding in his work with a family law firm—challenging, fulfilling and emotional work. Some of his clients were U.S. citizen children who had been separated from their undocumented parents by deportation orders.

“As excited as I am about this term, I am hoping to be able to leave a few days early, like I did last year,” Beth was saying. “Lynette plans to go home to Boston for Christmas this year.”

Will remembered the text he had received from his sister that morning. “Oh, that’s great! Gia is planning to come home as well.” His sister had been teaching English in South Korea for the past year. 

“Awesome!” Beth smiled. “I can’t wait to meet her in person.” Beth and Gia were already friends from numerous Facetime conversations. “I bet she and Lynette will get along well, too.”

Will nodded, thinking about how he wanted to broach a new topic. Before he could speak, Beth went on. “You know what I’ve been thinking? Since both our families will be in Boston this Christmas, I would really love to—”

“Get married!” Will blurted out, and then reddened. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have interrupted you. Especially not with those words.” _Good going, Casanova_ , he chided himself. Not only was that the most unromantic proposal ever, he was now digging a hole for himself. 

Beth laughed. “I was going to say the same thing.”

“You were?”

She reached across the table for his hand. “I was. I don’t see any reason for us to wait. We know our relationship is for life. And what better time to do it, than when our whole families are gathered together, on the anniversary of the time when we fell in love?”

Will squeezed her hand. “I agree. And I have some much more romantic words prepared for this occasion.” 

He started to slide his chair back, but Beth stopped him. “No! Will, please don’t get down on your knee.”

He hesitated, and then realized that for his down-to-earth girlfriend, grand gestures weren’t what mattered. What counted was his heart. “Okay,” he conceded. “But I have to say what I was going to say. Thanks to Fitz, I know how _not_ to propose to a woman. And I owe it to you to do better.”

Beth smiled, and waited for him to go on.

Will took a deep breath. “Beth,” he said, holding both her hands in his own, “you have transformed my life. You are the most beautiful, intelligent, caring, compassionate, bold, and strongest woman I’ve ever known. Every morning I rejoice that I get to spend another day with you, talking to you, laughing with you, debating you,” (at this, Beth laughed), “and loving you. I want to spend the rest of my life making you as happy as you have made me. Will you marry me?”

Beth was beaming, but there were also tears in her eyes. “Yes,” she said, “my beloved Will, yes.”

As he leaned over to kiss her, he saw something from the corner of his eye. An interracial couple in old-fashioned clothing, walking along the water’s shore. From her intake of breath, he knew that Beth had seen them, too. 

Then they were gone. Breathless, Beth and Will leaned their heads together and looked out at the gentle waves of the Sound, hoping to retain the glimpse in their minds. They had often felt the presence of their ancestors with them, but this was the first vision they had had since that night at the top of the Pru. Amid the noise of children’s laughter on the nearby beach, seagulls squawking, and ripples of water, they heard two voices whisper, _“Well done.”_

~~%~~

 **THE END** (for real, this time!)


End file.
